


Stealing the Stars

by Tchailenova



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Astronomy Tower, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Hogwarts Third Year, I Don't Even Know, Inter-House Friendships, Inter-House Relationships, Inter-House Rivalries, Internal Conflict, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stargazing, The Golden Trio Era, eventually, oblivious despite cleverness, socially unacceptable affection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tchailenova/pseuds/Tchailenova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione has a penchant for stargazing. Her refuge in the Astronomy Tower is accidentally discovered and she can no longer call it her own private retreat. She expects to be given hell by her discoverer, not for him join her pleasantly silent stargazing nights. They are separated by the gulf of House rivalries and social stigmas, but a certain kind of understanding develops in the silence shared beneath the stars. How far can their delicate peace be stretched? Is it stable enough to bridge the gap for friendship to take root?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tower feat Midnight & Mutual Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione has an unexpected visitor, Draco is made uncomfortable, and Hermione thinks a lot about various things.
> 
> This chapter is a fill for the Prompt:  
> Tower (randomized). I'd like to see Hermione in Gryffindor tower or the astronomy tower. Perhaps with her significant other. It could be angsty, fluffy, dramatic, or something completely different. I'd just like there to be feels of some sort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been rewritten - I'm not sure I'm totally 100% sold on it, but it's better and for now that's good enough

 

  

_“Even as a child, she had preferred night to day, had enjoyed sitting out in the yard after sunset, under the star-speckled sky listening to frogs and crickets. Darkness soothed. It softened the sharp edges of the world, toned down the too-harsh colors. With the coming of twilight, the sky seemed to recede; the universe expanded. The night was bigger than the day, and in its realm, life seemed to have more possibilities.”_

\- Dean Koontz

* * *

 

Hermione put down her book and tilted her head back to the stars. It was something she’d stumbled across in the dusty corners of the library, and she found herself really enjoying this collection of poetry. Her fingers brushed over the words absently as she reflected upon them. This one in particular, _Midnight_ , really spoke deeply to her, as though the author had taken a peek into her heart and wrote it just for her in this moment. Such things weren’t possible, but she couldn’t resist her imagination and what harm could come of indulging a tiny fantasy?

Certainly under starlight, many more things were possible than she could ever entertain in the light of day. Too many people, important people whose opinions mattered to her, would object to the (they would say unfortunate) subject of her interest. Not to mention, she didn’t have any reason to believe her affections would returned - or even if they’d be received kindly. Hermione didn’t intend to pine away for a boy who wouldn’t look twice at her, especially if the effort would only reward her with social stigma, and possibly losing the respect of her friends.

 _What should it matter to them, anyway?_ She thought bitterly, _It shouldn’t matter who anybody likes! And,_  she continued, _while I’m at it, why_ _**him** of all people? _ The heart was fickle, she knew, and completely unregulated by things such as logic, but even so: a bit of her bitterness seeped out to rail ineffectively against her heart.

Hermione gently reminded herself that she had a very unique opportunity to experience each day twice. She heard castle gossip from different people in different places when she spun backward in time mere hours at a time. They did not have the luxury of seeing each day from two different perspectives. She had become quite well accustomed to the reality that everything was more complicated than it seemed at first glance. There was always another side to the story. Therefore, it should be less of a surprise that she'd somehow found a few redeeming aspects to an otherwise irredeemable personality. She hadn't quite meant to use the  _very big privilege_   as a method of spying on anyone (the privilege which was, even now, sitting hotly against her décolletage like an accusation). It was just coincidence that the witch had started to see many of her peers in a different light now that she had more time in her day than anyone else.

They wouldn’t understand things the same way. While she cared deeply for her friends and thought them clever in their own ways, the understandings that she’d come to grips with over the course of the term to date would not be easily taught even if she’d had the right words. Knowing that everything has more than one version of events isn’t something that can simply be explained. The quickest way to an explanation would be to simply _show_ them, but there was no way she would share the incredible privileged secret hiding on a golden chain under her sweater. Without it, her boys would simply have to learn that particular lesson on their own and in their own time.

Sighing again, she canted her head backwards to gaze up at the moonless sky. It provided an unrivaled view of the stars. Even though she was an avid student, eager to learn everything she could about this whole new and fantastic world, stargazing was something that the young witch participated in willingly simply for enjoyment.

In the deep silence, she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and her mind instantly jumped to the conclusion that she was about to get caught out of bed. Taking a deep breath, Hermione willed herself into silence, not daring to move a single muscle, hoping that there was the slightest chance that she’d be overlooked.

The door creaked open, and a very young and relieved sigh split the air. Confused, she turned on the bench and craned her neck around to peek past the huge telescope which was the gem of the astronomy tower. Her breath would have caught in her throat if she hadn’t already been holding it, because in the doorway stood a fellow student. Not a professor, so she was safe for now.

Taking a moment to calm her adrenaline infused pulse and breathe slowly and softly, Hermione closed her eyes and tried not to make a sound. She wanted to see their behavior in this place, her quiet escape, and she was afraid that if she alerted whoever it was to her presence, the young witch would be robbed of the chance to satisfy her curiosity.

Her brown eyes widened in disbelief, however, when she recognized the face that was tilted up to the stars in an expression of calm and relaxed wonder. It was not a set of features she would ever expect to see so at ease and reduced to simply enjoying the majesty of the night. Maybe it was the coolness of the night, or the wind, or the openness, or the endless spread of stars that stretched overhead which enthralled him so, but Hermione never thought she would witness the haughty _Prince of Slytherin_ indulging in something that she personally considered so thoroughly soul-cleansing.

It was unexpected, and just another example of how everything has more than one aspect.

Intrigued, Hermione schooled her features into calm reverence under the stars as she gazed up at them and pretended ignorance of his presence. She wanted him to see her as honestly as she had caught him, as foolish as that may be; she wanted to show him that they had something in common. Her words certainly wouldn’t convey her sincerity, so she let him believe that he had caught her unawares as she had secretly seen him.

Satisfied that she had forgotten about Malfoy and her thoughts were sufficiently trained on the stars, she fiddled with the page in her book that contained the poem by that muggle Koontz. In the absolute silence of the night, it was as blatant as a verbal greeting, and she felt a little rush of adrenaline spike in her veins as his footsteps carried her swiftly into his line of sight. He was seeing her honest feelings about the heavens, and whether he would run away now or not was up to him.

Hermione decided to be a little difficult, and left the initial introductions to him. He was the one intruding on her haven, anyway, and if she wasn’t quite as immersed in stargazing as she pretended, it wouldn’t hurt anyone. She felt he deserved a bit of difficulty, especially with his typical behavior toward her and her friends. Hermione wasn’t exactly vengeful, but she couldn’t deny the spark of self satisfaction that thrummed through her with the knowledge that she was definitely making him squirm.

Her patience was rewarded when she heard him cough softly, and immediately she drew her full attention down from the stars, affecting first fear that she’d been caught, then relief that it was a student, then wariness when she ‘recognized’ who it was. Hermione wasn’t a very good actor, but she hoped it would convincing enough for Malfoy.

She frowned a little bit and softly queried, “What are you doing up here?” she tried hard to keep any offensive emotions out of her voice, and when her breath threatened to go out of control, Hermione delicately pulled her focus off of his gaze and back onto the stars.

If a smirk could have made any sound, she would have heard it loud and clear, but she didn’t have to see it to know it was there. Very carefully she gestured to the stars with a nod, trying to prompt him into answering the question instead of goading her into another tiff.

His voice was confident, but chilled by the breeze, “This,” he trailed off, considering his words and likely whether he would regret sharing them with her or not, “is liberating.”

This prompted her to look back at him with a raised eyebrow, not in incredulity, just surprise, though he seemed to misunderstand her meaning.

His nose tilted up in that cutely irritating way and he explained as though it was below him to even put words to the concept, “Just because we sleep in the dungeons doesn’t mean I can’t marvel at the stars.” He tilted his head to consider her book, blanket, and warm sweater, “believe me, I had no idea you would be up here.”

She couldn’t decide whether the sharpness in his tone was irritation with her for being there first and thus depriving him of the stars, or derision at her person in general.

Hermione sent him a sharp glare, but he held his ground (and _was that a tiny smile?_ ), and she huffed and turned away again. If he was going to be as difficult as he’d been in the past, she wasn’t going to make it terribly easy either. She pointedly ignored him for a few minutes, and marveled equally in the stars and his silent admiration of them. Eventually she took pity on him ( _who wants to stand to stargaze?_ ), and shifted rather loudly and obviously on the bench.

The sound and movement in the corner of his vision caught his full attention, and she vaguely gestured to it as though bored with the development. In reality, though, her heart was nearly pounding out of her chest with adrenaline and excitement. They had never been in each other’s presence for this long without descending into a verbal mudslinging match, and it thrilled her in ways that she knew she should forget about. Nothing could come of anything, but all the same, the brilliant young lady knew she wanted to leave on good terms.

She tried to breathe normally, and didn’t quite manage it until he had seated himself on the other end of the bench. He was likely irritated at having to share his stargazing moments with her - and she was likewise annoyed - but she doubted he would have sat down unless he was at least a little willing to share the stars. More likely he would rather simply acknowledge that they were having a similar experience and leave it at that. Regardless, it was a step closer to being on good terms than the bitter rivals they were currently, and the idea made Hermione forget to actually watch the stars.

Silently they both sat there, unmoving, witnessing the stars track across the sky. Nothing was said about being out of bed after-hours, and the quiet that had settled between them was left undisturbed. As slowly as the heavens spun above them, Hermione felt the stresses of her daily life unwind from around her, and before long she had gotten lost inside the vast realm of the tiny pinpricks of light.

Eventually, a sleepy smile found its way onto her face, a gentle one that was pleased without having to do anything, and Hermione knew it was time to return to her dormitory. She was content, though a bit chilled from the night air. When faced with the enormity and beauty of the stars, the worries and stresses from the week melted away and seemed as tiny as dust motes in the air.

Very quietly, she closed her book and folded her quilt, draping it over her arm, and she stood smoothly. Hermione breathed deeply of the night breeze, appreciating the nuances that she could only guess came from Malfoy, and prepared herself for the long journey back to Gryffindor tower. She would have to be especially cautious if she didn’t want to raise suspicion and get him in trouble. It had seemed to her that they had an agreement of secrecy. That was fine with her, and she didn’t want to be the first to break their unspoken pact.

In this shared interest, she had no reason to be nasty to him, and they had every way to understand each other. As she was about to open the door, she whispered something that might well have gotten stolen by the wind, but she didn’t care. Hermione couldn’t keep the words to herself. She could only keep to silence in certain things, and common courtesy upon parting was not one of them.

“Sleep well,” she bade him. It was soft and quiet, and almost certainly didn’t reach him, but she opened the door before she could think too hard on it.

Making her way back to Gryffindor tower was tricky, and she was quite grateful for the shortcuts and helpfully quiet portraits for their cooperation. The fat lady was a bit of trouble to wake in the early morning hours, but Hermione waved off the concern with a wave of her book and mumbling something about the library before hissing the password with irritation and " _won’t you let me_ **_in_ ** _already?_ "

Finally safe in the common room, Hermione deposited the borrowed blanket on one of the wingback chairs, and slowly made her way up to her dormitory for some much needed rest. If her thoughts kept revisiting the look of wonder on Draco’s face when he thought nobody could see, she wasn’t telling. It would go to the same pile of things that she strove to ignore in the efforts of forgetting her destined-to-fail interests.

Hermione smiled sadly to herself. It was all something she could consider in greater detail in the morning. It would be easier in the morning, in the polarizing light of day, when even simple kindness between them wouldn’t be possible and her life would be simpler.


	2. Dreams

Draco drug his feet along the flagstone corridors, absently listening to them echo. Three nights ago, he had seen Granger on the roof of the Astronomy Tower again. Last week he had assumed that Saturday had been a figment of his imagination. When nothing came of it (no teasing, or rumors, and no change in Granger’s behavior toward him), Draco had been convinced it was just a strange dream brought on by whatever the fifth years had been smoking in the common room (even though he had declined their offers to join them).

However, he had met Granger again, and Draco was certain this time that it wasn’t a dream. Now he worried that she would show up in inconvenient moments and bring it up around his peers. Or worse, that she would tell her goody-two-shoes Golden Gryffindor Boys and  _ they _ would give him no quarter.

Except: nothing had been said or even implied all day yesterday. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was building up to using it in a massively inconvenient manner. The din of voices startled him out of his thoughts as he rounded a corner and drew near enough to their transfiguration classroom to hear the babble of voices.

Steeling his nerves, Draco took a breath and strode into the classroom, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary and that all was right in his world. It was a far cry from the truth, but if he didn’t want them to know he was bothered, nobody would suspect.

He watched the Granger girl from over his opened book, and noted that she wasn’t acting different at all. With her usual sass she was correcting lost-cause-Weasley in the latest transfiguration spell. Shaking his head, Draco secretly appreciated her determination (a tiny bit, even if he thought tutoring the Weasel was a waste of anyone’s energy).

Professor McGonagall emerged from her adjoining office and silence fell over the students. Draco put the Astronomy tower events out of his mind, and tried to focus on the lesson.

Many minutes later, he noticed something was different. He let his focus wander for moment until he suddenly realized what it was.

Granger, that eager know-it-all (and sneaky girl about to use the astronomy tower against him), hadn’t said a single word all lesson unless directed by McGonagall, and wasn’t waving about like a one-armed Larksnap. It was a welcome change: nobody liked a smarty-pants who rubbed your nose in it, but the difference was… unexpected.

It worried him, in the same way he worried she might be plotting against him, until he remembered who it was. This was Miss goody-two-shoes ‘could hardly be duplicitous enough to entrap a fly’ Hermione Granger. Yes, she was annoying, and hung around with the good-for-nothing-but-trouble Potter and Weasley, but she herself likely couldn’t hurt a thing. Let alone plot anyone’s demise.

She wasn’t a Slytherin, and for good reason. He had started to take solace in this difference and his clear superiority when he realized that he’d lost all track of the lesson in his bout of daydreaming.

Suddenly a light flickered on in his mind.  _ That _ was the reason, the explanation behind her silence. She was daydreaming.

Draco scoffed.

‘Who does she think she is, that she might be able to just daydream through her classes, and still get decent marks?’

Draco snorted at himself, ‘Of course,’ he admitted privately, ‘if anyone could, it’d be her.’

Deciding to corner her in the library later to sort out what’s what, Draco tore his attention from his daydreams and forced it back onto the lesson. He had to admit, though, that her silence was a blessing, and a decidedly  _ welcome _ change - if strange and unnerving.

* * *

 

True to habit, Granger was easy to track down in the library. She wasn’t exactly quiet in announcing her plans in the Great Hall, and Draco knew people.

Okay, so he had overheard her himself - mostly on accident - as he passed the Gryffindor table after lunch. Besides, it wasn’t a really big mystery. The essay for Professor Snape was due in a few days, and first years enjoyed a free period on Tuesday afternoons. Most of the students could be counted on to populate the grounds for their free time. It did not surprise him in the least that Granger would choose the library instead.

So, he’d made his excuses and waved off his entourage with some difficulty, and had only been looking in the stacks for a minute before he found her. She’d embedded herself in an alcove with several piles of books open on the table in front of her. Surreptitiously, Draco looked around and cast a localised silencing charm - just in case anybody decided to be nosy - he didn’t want anyone to recognize their voices and run off to feed the rumor mill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry that this has taken me so very long to update. I can't promise more frequent updates, but I will definitely do what I can to pay more frequent attention to this story of mine. I could cite a bunch of excuses (university, car accidents, life) but the actual relevant situation is just that I put other stories in front of this one and then forgot about it entirely. Whoops!
> 
> Feel free to berate me or encourage me. Any input at this point after my very long bout of negligence is good :3


	3. Flight

Draco scowled at the cloudy skies, which had earlier threatened rain and were now keeping good on their promises. Unfortunately for Draco, it also meant that his Saturday night plans to ignore Granger while stargazing were shot. No amount of clever charms could make stargazing in the rain pleasant - mostly because the stars were hidden behind the clouds - and they had both silently decided to give it up as a lost cause.

He walked beside her, content to make their way back to their houses in silence - as per their usual ways. If either of them ever spoke, it was to give a short greeting or whispered farewell; the ghosts of social politeness, delivered carefully so as not to disturb the peace of the night.

A rattle and decidedly loud clatter from a distant corridor made both of them stop in curiosity. They strained their ears, trying to divine the source of the noise. An unmistakable cackle from Peeves echoed chaotically across the stone floors, and Draco felt a sliver of fear shoot up his spine.

If Peeves saw them walking together, there would be no end to the jibes and pranks, not to mention that everyone would hear,  _ and _ they would get a professor called on them and likely land them in detention. Draco considered them to be rather lucky for having dodged the poltergeist so far, but it seemed that their luck had just run out.

He glanced at Granger, neither bothering to hide the expression of fear and apprehension that darted across their faces. The poltergeist was trouble for both of them, and he wanted nothing more than to simply get through the night without being found by anyone. Peeves most especially.

Fear gave her voice urgency and restricted it to a single word, “Peeves,” She hissed. Draco could easily hear all the nastiness she felt for Peeves, spitting his name as though it were a potent expletive.

Draco nodded, and the only thing he could think to do or say bubbled unbidden from within his chest, the command coming out on a breath as though it was the most he could manage: “ _ Run! _ ”

He had intended for them to split up, increase their chances of slipping away unnoticed, of keeping out of trouble.  _ She  _ had other plans, or maybe just quick reflexes honed by the many times that she’d run from getting caught, and her hand shot out to catch his.

Draco was dragged forward, toward the staircases, and then all he could think about was keeping his feet under him and putting space between them and Peeves, and somehow remaining silent to avoid attracting any more attention. She pulled him along behind her, clearly leading him with a purpose.

That was fine by him. If she had some clever hiding place that she’d discovered after years of hiding after hours, now was a good time to shut up and let the know-it-all show off her cleverness. Draco was surprised when they stopped in a corridor just off the main staircase. She still hadn’t let go of his hand, and Draco thought something was quite familiar about this place.

His memories eventually caught up with his feet and he asked, “Hey, isn’t this-”

She hissed for his silence, and pressed her finger against her lips.

Draco was indignant and couldn’t help but snap sharply, “Did you just -?!”

“Shh!!” She was much more insistent this time, and still didn’t let him finish, though Draco was starting to think that maybe she was being sensible. Talking loudly after hours while being pursued by Peeves wasn’t a bright choice.

It was this thought, rather than her insistent hushing, that made him shut up.

He noticed then the portrait in front of them: a great fat lady dressed in a preponderance of pink frills and lace looked down at them with deep disapproval. She gave Granger the once over, nodded to herself as though satisfied, and then did the same to him, before glaring with her whole person. He got the distinct and unnerving feeling that he’d been weighed and found wanting, and he didn’t like the thought - despite the fact that she was just a painting.

Draco stepped away from Miss Granger and turned his body away, making a show of looking around the corner. He just wanted to keep running down to the dungeons, but Hermione still hadn’t let go of his hand yet.

He looked back at the portrait just in time to see her expression shift, an eyebrow lifted elegantly, and a glimmer appeared in her gaze. She considered Granger’s pleading face again and seemed to have made a decision.

“Password?” came the haughty and better-than-thou tone of voice, as though put upon to perform her duties, but Draco recognized that particular brand of ‘bodice squirming’ from his mother’s friends: she had discovered something gossip-worthy and dearly wished to go and spread it. Draco realized that his suspicions of being found inferior had been correct. It made sense that the guardian would be reluctant to allow him passage. He was a  _ Slytherin _ after all, and this had to be the  _ Gryffindor _ dormitory.

Granger breathed a sigh of relief and tightened her hold on his hand, as though she was afraid he was about to break loose and fly away, “Lumos Solem,” she whispered, and Draco’s mind snatched the tiny detail and filed it away without conscious effort, even though he felt a little bit like he should try to  _ not  _ remember.

The portrait swung open, and as they passed through, Draco thought he heard the portrait’s smug and conspiratorial whisper after them, “Just this once, I’ll keep your secret.”

It wasn’t as comforting as it should have been, but he didn’t quite have time to react to that. He was being bombarded from every angle with burgundy and gold, and the contrast to his fond memories of a cool room in emerald and silver pulled at him uncomfortably. For the moment, however, it was warm and comfortable.

Most importantly, there was no Peeves, and he couldn’t get caught ‘out of bed’ since they were no longer roaming the halls. Technically, the rules only required that you be inside a dormitory - it was expected that it would be your own given the security measures which prevented mixing.

It was a  _ clever  _ little loophole, and Draco couldn’t help the pleased smirk that crept onto his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally free of academic responsibilities for a few weeks! This semester of university went well and I only have a few more courses before I graduate! Expect a celebratory something or other soon. Feel free to ask me for things in honor of the occasion.
> 
> Further notes: this has not been brit-picked, nor has it been beta'd - sorry if that bothers you.


End file.
